After having been married for nearly sixteen years, it's a given that most of my friends are married women. It's just the rules of the road. Birds of a feather do tend to flock together. Sure, I have a few single friends but my I can relate to what you're going through and I'm there for you no matter what girls are all married.
However, I no longer am.
But when I was I hated the tired pick up lines shady men would bombard you with on our infrequent girl's nights out. Is your husband married? Married...well are you happily married? How could your husband let you out of the house alone? Can we be good friends? Enough already degenerates! This ring symbolizes something. When I first countered your hormonal induced attack with I'm married...that should have clued your tired trifling self into the fact that I want no parts of you or what you're peddling.
Just the other day my still happily married girlfriend rang me up. We were catching up on life...the kids, school, work, getting together soon for some girl time...you know, the usual. In the middle of the conversation, she thought about something that had been troubling her.
As the story goes, her husband and their two boys have started regularly frequenting a barber shop in the area where they live. The atmosphere is crisp, clean, family and kid friendly and the guys working their magic with the clippers are first rate.
Often when her husband is unable to take the boys she picks up the barber shop detail.
I've always loved how family oriented she is. For her, it's all about the hubby, the boys and enjoying life as a unit. Don't get me wrong. She still makes time for herself but let's just say there's no place on earth she'd rather be than with the three most important men in her life.
Bless her heart and Jesus, please be a fence. This child has been strickened with an affliction that keeps her on the alert at all times.
She is beautiful. When I tell you my sister is a beautiful black woman...I mean just that. So, she's accustomed to the guys doing a double, sometimes triple take when she's in their vicinity. She never feeds into the unending barrage of compliments and often, caddy remarks. She realizes these unsettling displays of admiration, lust and tom foolery are just a no good means to an end for these overgrown boys in men's bodies. But the fact remains the same. She's gorgeous.
A couple of days ago she received a friend request on Facebook from the barber who cuts her husband's and sons' hair. She thought it was harmless enough as she is the only one in the family with a Facebook account. What a nice gesture, right?
Wrong!
After accepting the request, she received a message in her inbox that went something like this.
I don't mean to be disrespectful but you are a beautiful woman. I was wondering if we could be friends and get to know each other better and talk sometimes.
WTF! Isn't this the guy who's seen her countless times in the shop with her husband and boys? Isn't this the guy who's her husband's personal barber? Isn't this the guy that can tell (because anyone with any level of visual acuity knows) just how much she loves her husband?
She was in a state of disbelief. She was upset that someone she thought so highly of would come at her in such a tactless manner. And heaven forbid if her husband were to inadvertently see this leading and suggestive comment. Still, she didn't want to rock the boat. Knowing in her heart that not no...but hell no would be her answer, she just didn't have the words to express this to him.
And that's where I come in.
I logged into her account (with her permission) and told him for her. It went something like this:
Thanks for the compliment. Trying not to be disrespectful can often get lost in the idea that it represents. My husband and my boys are very pleased with the service your barber shop provides and I am too. We love the family atmosphere we feel every time we've been there. I would hope that you already consider all of us friends.
She was satisfied with that so, I pressed the send button.
Read it however you will my tired trifling brother. But in a word...no in two words, the translation is F you!
